With that, Jake left the house. He strove to keep a suitably grim expression on his face when he spied Indigo peering out at him from behind the bedroom curtain. With what he hoped was a look of steely determination, Jake walked down the street toward the Wolfs’. He was a little surprised when Indigo hadn’t caught up with him by the time he reached the porch. Determined to carry this act through to the end, he stomped up the steps.
The weathered planks of the chicken coop felt rough beneath Indigo’s palms as she pressed close to the wall and peeked around the corner of the squat building at her parents’ back porch. Where was Jake? Had he left by the other door? Oh, God. He meant to shoot that puppy. Scarcely a minute passed that she didn’t think of Lobo, and now she would have to look at his son a hundred times a day. In a fit of pique, she kicked at the dirt.
The creak of door hinges sounded from across the yard and brought her head up. She watched as Jake emerged from her parents’ house, a rifle in one hand, the gunnysack in the other.
After taking a fortifying breath, Indigo stepped away from the henhouse. “Jake?”
He spun at the sound of her voice and cast around the yard. A slow smile touched his mouth when he finally spotted her, and he relaxed his stance, one hip slung outward, a long denim-clad leg bent at the knee. With the wind whipping his black hair and his dark eyes twinkling, he looked virile and handsome, totally at odds with her image of a heartless puppy killer.
Indigo tried not to look at the wiggling burlap. “What are you going to do?” she asked.
His jaw tensed. “Why don’t you go inside and have a nice cup of hot cocoa with your ma?” he suggested in a kindly tone. “I’ll be back in a few minutes and walk you home.”
Indigo’s pulse quickened. An urge came over her to pound his chest with her fists. How could he do this to her? “I can’t let you shoot Lobo’s baby, Jake,” she informed him shakily.
He pursed his lips and slowly exhaled. “Honey, sometimes life is tough. I’m sorry for putting you through this. Lay it off on idiocy. I just didn’t think how it would make you feel.”
The gunnysack twisted and swayed against his thigh. Indigo’s gaze was caught by the movement. “I—I can’t let you shoot him. I’ll give him a home.”
His eyebrows drew together. “I know you mean well, but you wouldn’t be doing him any favor. Pups need a lot of love. It wouldn’t be right to raise him in an environment where he was always measured against his father and found lacking.”
“I’ll love him,” she insisted in a shrill voice.
Jake heaved a weary sigh. “What you said over at the house, about disloyalty to Lobo. You were right. It’d be fickle of you to get another wolf so soon. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“But he’s not just any wolf! He’s Lobo’s son.”
“True.” He cast a worried glance at the bulging burlap. “That’s why I went and got him. He’s the image of his papa, and I thought—well, sometimes a replacement can ease a person’s grief. But that was before I saw the hurt he brought you.”
Indigo shifted her gaze from the gunnysack back to Jake. He seemed bent on carrying through, and the thought made panic well within her. How she felt didn’t matter. The puppy’s life was at stake. “I’ll get over the hurting,” she cried. “Please don’t shoot him, Jake.”
He raised both eyebrows. “Honey, do you think I want to? Give me an alternative and I’ll jump at it. Can you think of anyone who might want him?”
Indigo searched her mind. “Chase would take him, but he’s miles away.” She licked her lips and lifted her hands. “And, of course, my father, but he’s in no condition to care for a puppy. M-maybe I could just take him temporarily.”
Jake shook his head. “He’d bond with you, and it’d break his little heart when you gave him away. No, honey, my way’s best, quick and clean. You go on into the house and have that cocoa. I’ll be right back.”
With that, Jake turned and strode away toward the woods. Indigo stood there watching him, entrapped in a whirlpool of emotion. She didn’t even want to look at that puppy.
She broke into a run. “Jake, wait!”
He spun to look at her. Indigo raced to reach him. Not allowing herself to think, she grabbed the gunnysack. He tightened his grip and resisted the tug of her hand.
“Indigo, go in the house like I told you.”
She wrenched the sack from his grip and hugged it to her chest, horribly aware of the struggling bundle of furry warmth within the burlap. “I’m not going into the house! This is Lobo’s baby, Jake! He’d never forgive me.”
Looking down at his wife, two thoughts struck Jake simultaneously; he had succeeded in making her want the pup, and for the first time since their marriage, she was defying him. God, but she was beautiful when that fierce Comanche pride snapped her spine taut. She stood with her chin lifted high, her blue eyes blazing with purpose, her narrow shoulders braced.
It hit Jake with the force of a rock between the eyes that this was the girl he had believed he was marrying, not the quiet, subservient mouse she had become after making her vows. In a flash of clarity, he saw her sitting beside him on the bed, braiding and unbraiding her hair upon command. Every man’s dream come true? Maybe. But it wasn’t his. He wanted this Indigo, a girl who was one part angel and one part wild temptress, a curious blend of sweetness and flame. What had begun as an attempt to make her yearn for the puppy took on other proportions. Jake gazed down into her vivid blue eyes and ached a little for both of them, for himself because he felt cheated, for her because her beliefs and her experiences with white men were forcing her into a mold that would slowly suffocate her.
As if it suddenly occurred to her what she had done, she got a stricken expression on her face, and her eyes darkened with confusion. Watching her, Jake held his breath, afraid she might give the puppy back to him. Go ahead and stand up to me just this once, he wanted to say. The world won’t end. But he didn’t dare rip at the fabric of her upbringing like that. If she was going to find solid footing in their marriage, he couldn’t shift the foundation. Eventually, maybe she would find a happy medium in which she could be herself, yet still fulfill what she believed to be her wifely role. That could only come with time.
Jake saw her arms relax around the puppy. Then she bent her head. He knew what she meant to do. Before she could, he said, “If keeping him is that important to you, Indigo, take him home.”
She slowly lifted her chin. Tears swam in her eyes. Jake searched for a flicker of the fire he had seen there an instant ago, some trace of the pride that had flamed so brilliantly. But there was no sign of either. Just a hollow nothingness, as if she had tamped down and put a lid on her subversive emotions.
He tried to imagine how it would feel to be enslaved and forced to swallow his pride a hundred times a day. For her, that was what marriage constituted. His wishes came first, always, no matter how strongly she felt about something. For an instant, she had simply reacted and forgotten that. Now, she was reassuming the meek demeanor she believed appropriate.
“Go on. Take him,” he repeated.
She hugged the puppy close and retreated a step, looking at him in bewilderment. Jake couldn’t help but wonder what she had expected. A thrashing? He tried to reassure her with a smile. Maybe she needed this experience so she could see he wasn’t an autocratic monster.
“Are you angry?” she asked softly.
The worried look in her eyes made Jake’s smile broaden. “Do I look angry?”
She didn’t appear to be reassured by that. “No.”
“Then I must not be.” He balanced the rifle over his shoulder and glanced at the gunnysack she held so protectively. “Is he old enough to eat meat?”
She gave a hesitant nod.
“Then you’d better check the smokehouse.”
She nodded again. Then she turned and fled as if the devil were nipping at her heels. Jake watched her go. When she disappeared from sight, he took a deep breath and exhaled, feeling as if he
had just done battle with giants and lost.
Indigo had already started supper when Jake came in that evening. Her stomach knotted when she heard the front door open, and her nerves leaped at his every footfall as he walked across the sitting room to the kitchen doorway. A blur of denim and blue chambray, onset by burnished umber and ebony, he seemed to fill the opening.
She pretended not to see him and continued stirring the stew, putting off the moment when she would have to look into his eyes. Was he angry? That question had plagued her all day, and it was one for which only he could provide an answer. Do I look angry? She had learned long ago that white men could hide their darkest emotions and intentions behind a charming smile.
She felt the puppy tug on her moccasin. His playful growls couldn’t be ignored. She laid aside the spoon and forced herself to look up. Jake’s dark eyes twinkled into hers, and his firm lips slanted into a teasing grin.
“It looks like you’ve got more trouble than help with a companion like that on your heels,” he said lightly.
“He doesn’t seem to know when it’s time to play.”
Jake leaned out to watch the cub’s antics. “All the time is playtime, from the way it looks. You’ve done wonders with him. I can’t believe that’s the same little fellow who bit me.”
Indigo gave her foot a tug, trying to free it. The puppy took that as encouragement and gave her moccasin a shake. “He was afraid this morning. Now that we’ve had time to become acquainted, he doesn’t feel threatened.”
Jake arched a dark eyebrow, his expression indulgent. “You two had a long talk, I take it?” His gaze searched hers. “I’d like you to teach me how that’s done one of these times.”
Indigo had suspected he knew about her gift because of the curtained expression in his eyes when she tried to look into him, but she’d hoped she was wrong. Now he had confirmed it. A chill niggled its way up her spine. How did he feel about having a wife who communicated with creatures? And if he had nothing to hide, why did he shut her out? Now she knew he did it deliberately. At times like now, his eyes were warm and communicative. It was only when she attempted to see deeper that the walls went up.
He straightened and stepped into the kitchen. With a glance at the stove, he said, “Is that fresh coffee I smell?”
Dragging the puppy along, Indigo stepped to the dish board and took a mug from the shelf. Jake chuckled as she worked her way back to the coffeepot, one foot ensnared by tugging teeth. He sat on a straight- backed chair and stretched out his long legs, boots crossed at the ankles. She could feel his gaze trailing slowly over her. Her nerves prickled. Did he have a dark side he was afraid she might see? Her hand trembled as she lifted the coffeepot.
“You’re wearing a skirt. What’s the occasion?”
Indigo turned to give him the filled mug. He leaned forward and crooked his finger through the handle.
“He wet on me,” she murmured.
“He what?”
Embarrassed, she repeated herself. Jake grinned and perused the fringed hem of her knee-length skirt with an appreciative gleam in his eyes. “Britches and bloomers both?” At her nod, his grin broadened. “Maybe having him around won’t be such a hardship after all. I assumed the only skirt you had was the white doeskin.”
Indigo shook her head. “I have several for everyday. I just don’t wear them much when I’m working.” The puppy jerked harder on her moccasin, and she glanced down. “At least I didn’t. Now I have no choice but to wear skirts until I get my pants cleaned and treated. The process takes a spell.”
“You’ve got only one pair?” he asked mildly.
“No, two. But given his bent for springing leaks, I’ll save the extra pair for just in case.” She glanced up. “You did say I could go back to work as soon as you felt it was safe.”
He nodded. “That’s what I said.”
Indigo relaxed slightly. If he was angry, he was a master at camouflage, and if he had a dark side, he was a consummate actor. The puppy spied a potato peeling she had dropped. Abandoning her moccasin, he scampered across the floor, plumed tail wagging over his back. With a yap and a snarl, he attacked the peel, gave it a shake, and ran with it into the sitting room.
“You ready for your walk?” Jake asked.
She bent over to open the oven and check her biscuits. “I thought I’d skip it for tonight. I’m afraid the pup might wander and not come when I call. By tomorrow, he’ll know us better.”
The heat seared her eyes. She reared back and averted her face, then closed the oven.
“What’re you going to call him?”
Indigo straightened and brushed at a falling strand of hair. “I haven’t decided yet. A name is very important. I’d like it to be something significant.”
He tucked in his chin and looked thoughtful. “How does Sonny strike you? Temporarily, that is.”
“Sonny?” Indigo wrinkled her nose. “It isn’t dignified.”
Jake shrugged. “But significant. He’s Lobo’s son. Besides, he’s a little tyke yet. By the time he grows up, you’ll have thought of a better name.”
She rolled the name across her tongue again and managed to smile. “I’m warming to it. All right, Sonny it is.”
His dark gaze trailed slowly over her and settled on her legs where her moccasins and skirt didn’t meet. His expression sharpened, and he leaned forward. “Honey, are those scratches?”
She bent to look and was surprised to see several red marks on her shins and calves. “He jumps up. Wolves have claws. As cubs, they can be a little treacherous when they play.”
“Jesus.” He curled a hand behind her knee and drew her toward him. “He’s cut you to ribbons.” He arched a look at her. “And you’re afraid of me? That’s amazing.”
“I’m not afra—”
Before she could finish, Jake reached up and clamped a hand over her mouth. “Forget I said that.”
He started to move his hand, and Indigo said, “But I’m—”
He smothered the words again, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Indigo, just don’t say anything. That’s an order.”
When he removed his hand from her mouth again, she nibbled her lip, gazing down at him in bewilderment. He winked at her, then resumed his examination of her legs.
The feel of his warm fingers made her bare skin tingle. She tried to pull away, but he held her fast and drew up her skirt with his other hand to assess the damage. No men but her father and brother had ever seen her bare legs, and that had been years ago. Only her mother had seen or touched her since. Indigo’s face flamed.
Jake didn’t seem aware of the liberty he was taking. She felt his fingertips, featherlight and gentle, seek out each scratch. “Did your aunt Amy keep any salve here?”
“There’s some in the top bureau drawer.” All Indigo wanted was to escape his touch and get her skirt back down. “I’ll wash them and put salve on after dinner.”
“After dinner, hell.” He released her and stood up. “Animal scratches are bad to get infected.”
He left the kitchen and returned moments later carrying the tin of medication. After motioning her to a chair, he drew a linen towel from the drawer, moistened it with water from the jug, and then knelt before her on one knee. Grasping her right foot, he propped it on his raised thigh and pushed her skirt up.
Indigo’s breath caught. She wasn’t wearing bloomers. With one of her legs lifted, he could probably see clear to tomorrow. She tried to tuck her skirt. Jake glanced up, and his white teeth flashed in a lazy smile.
“I am your husband,” he reminded her.
Somehow, Indigo didn’t find that very reassuring. “I—I can do it by myself. Really!”
He gave her a look charged with meaning. “I don’t mind.”
She stared at the back of his bent head. When he ran a hand above her knee, she jerked and clamped her thighs together.
He lifted laughing brown eyes to hers. “Indigo, would you relax? All I’m interested in is the scratches.”
> She kept her thighs pressed together, but tried to relax otherwise, to no avail. He cast her another questioning glance.
“Don’t you trust me?” His voice was deep and rich. “If I was bent on seeing whatever it is you’re working so hard to hide, don’t you think I would have had a look before now?”
He had a point. He lowered her right foot, lifted the other, and applied himself to cleaning the remaining scratches. When that was done, he applied salve.
When the last scratch was tended, he replaced the lid on the tin container, set it on the table, and flashed her a slow smile. “Still in one piece?” he asked softly.
Indigo gave a jerky nod, her one thought to get both feet back on the floor. He seemed loath to release his grip on her ankle, however. She had difficulty meeting his gaze.
“You’re as pretty a pink as any rose I’ve ever seen,” he informed her huskily. “And you have beautiful legs.”
That brought her eyes up. She stared at him, pulse slamming, her hands curled into tight fists over the edge of the chair seat. “Your biscuits are going to burn,” she said shakily.
“Now there’s a tactical maneuver if ever I’ve heard one,” he replied with a chuckle. He lowered her foot to the floor and pushed to his feet.
Sonny reentered the kitchen, still playing with the potato peeling. Jake returned to his chair and took a leisurely sip of coffee while he watched his wife. He couldn’t be certain, but he thought some of the shadows had eased from her eyes.
When she joined him at the table for dinner and ate a hearty portion of stew, his spirits soared. It was the first enthusiasm he had seen her show for food since Lobo’s death. With every few bites, she picked out a bit of venison and gave it to Sonny. Her feeding the dog at the table didn’t meet with Jake’s approval, but he said nothing. Hell, as far as he was concerned, she could put a bib on the pup and sit him on a chair. What made her happy made him happy. That was the long and short of it.
He fished a piece of meat from his bowl and leaned down with it extended on his palm. The wolf cub fastened gleaming golden eyes on the meat and slowly approached to take it. Jake wiped his hand clean on his napkin and met Indigo’s shimmering gaze.
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